


I think I lost my halo

by dos_mierdas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ALL IN THE PAST, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Parenting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood and Injury, Body Dysphoria, Brothels, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Language, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender Dysphoria, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Internalized Transphobia, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Knight Shiro (Voltron), Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Prince Keith (Voltron), Prostitute Lance (Voltron), Prostitution, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Royalty, Running Away, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Trans Keith (Voltron), Underage Prostitution, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence, implied magic, lots of threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dos_mierdas/pseuds/dos_mierdas
Summary: A whore.Shiro was going to hide him in a brothel.“Seven hells, Shiro,” the boy cursed, holding the knight at arm's length as if to check him for injuries. His breath hitched as he saw the boy’s face. He was a beauty, with soft skin and high cheekbones and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, strong jawline tight as he made sure Shiro wasn’t bleeding anywhere, elegant eyebrows frowning up at him in what looked like confusion.“Something’s happened,” the boy shook his head. “You never come unscathed. And you haven’t- haven’t visited for anything other than healing for years”“I need a favor,” the knight then pulled a hand back towards him from where he stood in the shadows, coaxing him to stand in front of the boy, gently pushing the hood back to show his face in explanation.“For all that’s holy…”____To save Keith from an arranged marriage, Shiro helps him escape, hiding him somewhere unexpected. In the middle of running away, he meets someone who helps him find the freedom he's always longed for.Otherwise titled: You Can Take Prince Keith/Knight Shiro Trope From My Dead, Cold Hands: A Klance Fic. Inspired By Game Of ThronesTitle from Polarize by Twenty One Pilots.





	1. The Princess

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was very influenced by Game of Thrones and all of its vulgarities, so please read the tags before continuing. If you don't like the show/books I really wouldn't recommend this for you. It unrolled from the idea of what would a trans character go through if they were to exist in that universe, and eventually became a Klance fic. 
> 
> I mean no offense to trans people, and this is in no means a representation of their experiences or thoughts. I hope this doesn't come across as fetishizing them, because it really isn't that. I've been writing for a long time, and I've written trans characters before, this is just another story with Keith taking the main characters place and how he escapes the very brutal reality he's lived in to find freedom. Lance is in a way his rebellion. 
> 
> With all that said, please read the tags and continue to read at your own risk.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It was all wrong. He didn’t mind the wine or the jewels, didn’t much care for the fancy dresses and the elaborate styling of his hair. The big ballrooms and the whispers were unsettling, but tolerable, and his father’s words were cold too, like his hands as he got backhanded once again, like the flat of the blade when his tongue ran too rampant. At least the blood on his lips was warm, as were his knight’s hands as they guided him through the halls, sometimes with his head held high and sometimes limping and shivering, enraged.

Father’s eyes were always so distant, looking at him with a mixture of displaced love and raw hatred, longing for a wife long buried and anger for the repercussions that her death implied for them now. What would she think if she saw what had become of their lineage? When all there was left were scattered, illegitimate bastards hiding behind every corner and him. A mare useful only for carrying on at least their royal blood if he couldn’t the name, a spiteful child that brought nothing but misery and shame even to his own father, to his own name.

A name which wasn’t even his.  

“Karina”

Like the sound of clashing swords and the screeching of the extinct beasts that gifted them relevance some forgotten way so many years ago, the tint that colored their eyes true and made them royal. He hated that name, had never asked for it, not really. Would rather do out on the streets with an empty stomach or pass out on the way to the floor as he fell from the window that looked on to the doomed city from his room. It was barred now, mocking his failed attempts at death at earlier age. Though he didn’t long for it as badly, he enjoyed taunting it, getting into fights with the guards and letting them chase him down the streets, bringing in more rumors and tainting that poison name even further, sometimes smiling through the pain when he got punished for it.

“Karina,” his father’s voice hisses out as he blinks through his thoughts, taking in his situation again. He can see Shiro down the steps from the throne by which he stands, face tense and hands shifting a little, always so worried at his expense. He raises his head higher and tilts his head, glaring at his father and bowing mockingly.

“Yes, father?”

“You will marry this man. And you will birth me children worthier of the throne than you are. Understood?”

Oh. Lotor. He looks back at the prince, at his smirk and silver hair and pristine posture. This was the man meant to put an heir in him, to give their children names and worth. Meant to but never going to. As if he’d let that infamous, disgusting snake slither between his legs. As if he wouldn’t kill anything growing inside from the vicious beast that killed his first daughter when she wasn’t born a man, who drove his wife insane to the point she couldn’t bear it any longer, until her neck was adorned with the purple of their name color and her life blew out like a wavering candle. Who could ever love something that loved nothing but its own reflection? He’d rather take a knife and red his own throat than let it anywhere close to him.

“Karina!”

“Yes, father,” he bowed again, not looking in the snake’s way again. “When shall I ready for our... union? 

“You shall marry tomorrow”

Oh. That was a little… earlier than he expected.

Plans ran through his head every night, plotting his escape in fantastical ways. It seemed tonight he’d have to pull through one of them, and he could see Shiro looking at him, felt the pity radiating off him like a vapor. As the knight looked back at him, he could see a promise in his eyes, a fire he’d only previously seen when he was in battle, when he stopped being Shiro and became The Champion. Times when the knight would drop heads by his young feet with empty eyes flooded his mind, when he had yet to bleed but already knew how blood felt like on his skin. Later those nights the same man would kneel and weep like a child into the folds of his still small dresses, kissing his hands like he’d found the gods in them and begging for his forgiveness, for the monstrous acts he’d committed before a child like himself.

One night the knight even took a blade, guided his fingers so they held it together against Shiro’s neck and asked for death, even offered it to him so they’d be free together. He was thirteen at the time and had already learned to fear his own father and love a man who’d held a knife to his neck. Now that same man looked back, and he knew. 

Tonight he’d be free.

 

* * *

 

Midnight came around with a knock to his door.

Shiro gives him pants, and he can’t keep the smile off his face as he pulls them up his legs, loving the way the cloth is ragged and rough, a pleasant difference from the long skirts he’s been adorned with all of his life. He ditches most of his jewelry but keeps the golden chains rounding his waist, a pleasant weight that has kept him grounded and sane through long evenings meeting lords in the sun, bearing their disgusting gazes and wandering hands while his father drank himself to sleep. They helped him breathe through the disgust, kept him cool in the warm weather. He wouldn’t wish them on anyone else, and they’d serve as a reminder of where he’s come from, from wherever he was going to.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered to Shiro as the knight pulled a cloak around his shoulders, covering his face with the dark, heavy material of the hood.

“I am too, but I swear I’ll get you out,” Shiro pushed his chin up and grazed his cheeks softly. As did his father, Shiro found something in his face, looking at him so sadly... It made him kind, even though his expression was heartbreaking. He’d never questioned it before, but curiosity suddenly took over him and he couldn’t help but ask.

“Who am I to you?” he whispered. But Shiro just smiled tightly, bringing him close to lay a kiss on his forehead.

“We have to leave”

And so they did.

The knight took him through hidden passways and winding stairs until they were breathing the night’s fresh air. He couldn’t believe the stars were shining so brightly, wondered if Lotor was already heading to his chambers as they ran past dark alleys and chatting guards. What would his father say when he woke in the morning? Immediately a search for him would be called, a call to put the womb that would bring the new king of Marmora to life back in the castle. The crime of stealing it away would be unforgivable, the punishment if he was caught unparalleled to any he’d withstood before. Father had sworn to take his tongue the next time he ran it, promised to chain him to the bed if he wouldn’t lie still for the husband he was to chose, the snake...  

Had he really expected him to sit still and take it? A fool was wiser than the very king.

Funny.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe,” Shiro assured, quickly pressing him to the nearest wall, arm over his head as two drunk men stumbled into the same alley they were in. Tensing, he held his breath, swallowing nervously when he felt one of their eyes settle on him. Shifting his own, he locked them with the one that was staring at him, seeing a sliver of recognition in the stranger’s eyes before he was opening his mouth to-

“Shiro,” he breathed, but before the man could call him out he leaned forward and vomited all over the stone path. His companion laughed, heartily slapping his back as Shiro pulled him quickly past them and onto another alley. The knight nervously looked around for people up and down it before knocking on a crooked wooden door, so old that it creaked and cracked under Shiro’s fist.

“Who is it?” a boy’s soft voice came through it.

“An old friend” Shiro called back, “I’m looking for-” but before he could even finish, the door burst open and a boy was hugging Shiro, clinging onto his neck like a lifeline. The stranger was tall and thin, tan skin looking warm even in the darkness of the night. A translucent shawl covered his chest and draped down, the frayed tips dancing over his exposed, broad back. The same material covered his legs, even if it barely did its job of hiding them, the cloth of the pants so baggy that it merged together to look like the skirts he sometimes wore in the summer. The boy wore no shoes, but bangles rounded his ankles, the gold glinting in the soft firelight from inside.  

A whore.

Shiro was going to hide him in a brothel.

“Seven hells, Shiro,” the boy cursed, holding the knight at arm's length as if to check him for injuries. His breath hitched as he saw the boy’s face. He was a beauty, with soft skin and high cheekbones and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, strong jawline tight as he made sure Shiro wasn’t bleeding anywhere, elegant eyebrows frowning up at him in what looked like confusion.

“Something’s happened,” the boy shook his head. “You never come unscathed. And you haven’t- haven’t visited for anything other than healing for years”

“I need a favor,” the knight then pulled a hand back towards him from where he stood in the shadows, coaxing him to stand in front of the boy, gently pushing the hood back to show his face in explanation.

“For all that’s holy…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you @ me, there IS a reason why I don't mention Keith's name, you'll find out next chapter...


	2. The Whore

The whore’s name was Lance.

“You want me to hide the king of Marmora’s only living spawn in this brothel, where I’d like to remind you many noblemen and women inhabit, somehow sneak her past a thousand guards who’ll be on the lookout for her come daylight, convince a probably sane man to let her in and stay in the ship and reach and hide her in Altea?”

“Lance,” Shiro called sternly as the boy sat on the table, looking at him with pleading and reprimanding eyes as he turned to look at him. “Please”

“You,” the whore shook his head, sliding a hand closer to him on the table’s surface. Lance’s fingers were long and slender, reaching as if trying to dig out the answers straight from his chest. “Even if we pile all of your hair on your face, we’ll never hide the beauty beneath. And even if we could, those eyes… maybe most won’t notice but we’d only need one wandering pig’s eye to spot one of yours and we're done for. Violet. No living name has violet eyes, no one but the royal family, the king and princess-”

“I’m not a princess,” he gritted out, fists clenched by his side. Lance was wrong. Everyone was wrong and it made _him_ feel wrong. Since he’s had conscience he’s known something was off about him, known that there was an excess on some parts of his body and a void in others, that curves should be lines and long should be short. When he bathed, he’d look at himself in the mirror and recognize there was a line separating his mind from his body, and he had never been able to chat with the ladies about princes and babies, couldn’t think to throw his name away to take another or share a bed with a stranger and call him a husband. Some days it was worse than others, when he’d want to take a knife to his chest and stab until only a flat terrain remained. No one ever understood why he'd scream when he’d feel the pain of having his blood and demand for the servants to burn the sheets each time it happened, but he did. 

When his father found out, his bedsheets were ordered to remain unchanged, and he was forced to sleep and bleed on the floor to avoid the foul smell it collected as the days passed. One of those mornings,  Shiro came to wake him. He remembered waking up disoriented, staring at the hall’s ceiling and beginning to panic before he realized he was being carried. Later, the nurses informed him the knight had been running in a blind panic thinking he’d taken a knife to himself and bled out. 

It was horrible. The days spent with an aching back and thighs, the fear in Shiro’s face every time he opened his bedroom door after, the pain of his father’s hate...

If the king wanted him, he wouldn’t take him alive.

“Who are you then?” Lance wasn’t frowning anymore, only smiling carefully at him, unaware of the conflict within his mind.

“I don’t…” he frowned. Who was he? Who could he be if he didn’t even have a name? All he knew…”I’m not the princess of Marmora. I’m not Karina”

“And what should I call you, then?” when he didn’t answer Lance crawled over to him on the table, kneeling in front of him. “I met someone like you once, a long time ago. A boy who was anything but that..."

He was stunned into silence. Could it be that he wasn't as alone as he felt?

"She let me help. Do you wish for the same?" he nodded, entranced by Lance's voice, by what he was offering to him. "To be who you’ve not been allowed to be?” he looked up at Lance and the boy looked back, completely unafraid. There was an honesty in his eyes he couldn’t understand, a security he’d never enjoyed but had wanted to be a part of all of his life. 

"Do you want a name?" 

_Yes_ , he wanted to say, _more than anything_. But he only nodded, waiting, longing for it.

How was it that the whore knew exactly what to say?

Lance was silent for a moment, thinking it over. “There’s great pain in your eyes, I’ve seen it before. The men who come here from war aren’t the same as when they left, their minds gone with the winds of the battle. I knew a woman once who spoke in a strange language. She was kind and she sang about them a lot when I... started working here. Later, she told me she had a son who was killed in battle too, said that he was reborn a dragon, roaming the seven heavens eternally. Do you wish to have his name?”

A dragon... it felt fitting.

“I do,” and saying it felt better than any marriage vows could ever have. 

To be reborn by the words of a gentle whore seemed like a strange fate, but he’d take it over going back to who he’d been any day. He was tired of being so confused, knowing what he was but not knowing what to call it, knowing he wasn’t a princess but not knowing if the title of prince would fit him after denying the crown. If Lance could provide a name to match the image in the mirror, it’d be easier for Shiro and him to call him by it, for the rest of the people he’d meet to know him for it. He’d tell himself Lance didn’t see someone else in him, not like Shiro or his father did, that Lance was only a boy from a brothel trying to put a name to a face, making him a favor in the process.

Lance took his hands and kissed them. His lips were warm and his eyes shone like sapphires as he smiled at him.

“Keith. It’s a pleasure to meet you"

 

* * *

 

The blade was cold in his hands as he twirled it between his fingers. It had a nice glow in the early morning light, the metal reflecting his face back at him. Keith had found it hidden on his father’s chest along with his late mother’s things when he was ten, hidden in a purple shawl lined with tiny jewels. Even after so many years, it remained so sharp he cut his hand as he tried to uncover it, staining the soft material with bloody drops. He couldn’t leave it there after that, afraid of his father’s hand if he ever found out he’d been rummaging around his things, so he sneaked it into the folds of his dress and hid it under his pillow at night. Shiro confiscated it the next morning when he woke once again in a red-soaked mattress, in pain but not knowing where it came from. 

Of course, he’d end up in trouble anyway. The thin scar running down his cheek that remained after the incident made him damaged goods to foreign suitors. Add another couple bruises to the tally-mark... whatever.

Keith couldn’t help but think it was meant to be in his hands, felt the connection to his mother through the thrumming in his veins when Shiro taught him how to use it, hiding in the empty rooms of the castle.

Now, it looked back at him, mocking his cowardly nature.

“Look any longer and you might dig a hole in it instead of making holes _with_ it, y’know?” Keith startled, looking up at Lance as he leaned against the doorway of the washing room.

“I just…” he wanted to do it, _was_ going to, but he was strangely afraid of the transition. This would be the first choice he’d make as his own liberated person, as Keith and not Karin- _that_. He was new now, reborn. Keith wasn’t a princess, or anything worth anything. Keith was just someone. Anyone. Keith was...he  _was_. He didn’t even have a predestined way to walk, he was just free to go whichever way he wanted to. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

What would he do? Where would he go?

“You’re scared,” Lance teased, laughing a little. And how dare he mock his insecurity? 

“And you’re a whore,” Keith shot back, because he  _could_ now. He didn’t have to be prim or proper or nice, didn’t have to curtsy or bow or anything at all. For the first time, he was allowed to  _not_ be good, to  _feel_ good.

“You gonna apologize for that, sweet prince?” but he didn’t sound angry, honey voice amused. 

Lance was so different from the guards, who were always so easy to rile up. A little insult or a strategic bend and they were either desperate to kill or fuck him. It used to be fun, running away from hungry dogs, but he stopped doing it. One day, after getting surrounded on a dark alley, he got scared to death of them following through with their threats. He didn't show it, still taunting them as he got dragged back to the castle, kicking and scratching like he always did. It was funny seeing them get so exasperated and still be unable to do anything major to him but the joke ended as soon as he realized they weren’t headed to his chambers but rather the dungeons, started kicking and screaming until Shiro heard and came for him. It was the first time he'd seen his rage so up close, and it had left him terrified. 

And in the face of his insults, Lance just smiled.

“Are you laughing?” and only when he pointed it out did Keith notice, hearing his own awkward, breathy voice stumbling over a laugh. It felt good, like air was finally, freely flowing into his lungs.

“Yeah, guess I am,” he shook his head, meeting Lance’s gaze again. “Just… you’re quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met”

“A whore’s charm, one might call it,” Keith snorted, hand unconsciously chasing after the sound because of his septa's teachings, dropping it after realizing it was unnecessary. “Here,” Lance came around and stood behind him, the towering shadow somehow soothing him. “I’ll do it for you,” and then his hand was in front of Keith’s face, asking for the dagger.

“I _am_ scared,” he admitted quietly, sharing the small secret with Lance as if he’d known him a lifetime. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was easier sharing a piece of your mind with strangers, completely unafraid of judgment. Or maybe Lance was just that approachable, as charming as they came, all long legs and longer laughs. 

Keith had never known many people, being restricted to the palace and the people that inhabited it as he was, but he had learned how to be good at reading through poker faces and fake smiles with the number of nobles that passed through his home. He’d seen the whore talking to Shiro before entering the washroom, expression open and arms flailing dramatically now and then to emphasize something, and even if he hadn’t, he’d seen the way Lance had clung to the knight when opening the door. Intimacy was a concept most foreign to him, but one he could recognize. The amount of care in Lance’s crystalline eyes had been enough to realize the boy’s entire being was as true as the night that came after every day and the blue sea drowned those who never learned to transverse it. 

The boy was a fine jewel among the broken glass that made the brothel, rented to the business but never belonging to it.

“What are you afraid of?” Lance asked curiously, curling his fingers into Keith’s shoulder in a reassuring grip. 

_Imprisonment_ , he wanted to say, _freedom_.

“I’ve never cut it before," was what he settled on.

“Oh, honey,” Lance laughed. “If you’re worried I’ll screw up, don’t fuss. I’ve done this before. Not to mention, your face is enough to make queen's spread their legs in front of their kings as they bend over for you. Perfect bastard,” Lance laughed again, ignoring his protests and taking the knife from his hands, holding it with his teeth and running swift hands through his hair, pulling it every which way. After a couple minutes of that, he took it back from his mouth and pulled at his hair until Keith was staring up at his inverted face.

“We still have to cover that scar, honey. So it can’t be too short, yeah?”

Keith could only nod, lowering his gaze to hold his own reflected eyes in the mirror.

“Say farewell to Karina”

But before Keith could even open his mouth, Lance was already dragging the blade through his hair, letting it fall around him in shambles, the lost weight relieving him like only hours of tears had done before. After the whore was done, Keith’s reflection looked more like him than it ever had. But before he could thank him, Shiro was opening the door.

“We have to go”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet Lance and Keith gets a name! Yay! 
> 
> Also, I couldn't contain myself, I just had to cut Keith's hair like mulan. It's just... fitting.
> 
> Where do you think they're going? How did Shiro and Lance meet? Tune in to the next chapter to figure out... 
> 
> Spoiler alert: the answer is angst.


	3. The Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags before reading, please!
> 
> Angst ahead...

Miraculously, they had no major problems getting into the ship. The captain was some old customer of Lance’s, apparently, letting him not in hopes of having him, but because, like he so kindly explained: “I’m a whore, which means I've had to know my way around genitalia and minds for a living, fact which comes along with a shimmering addition of gold and information that lets me blackmail my way into more gold”

And it was a wonderful thing to see.

The man couldn’t even _look_ at Lance, only bowing his head like the whore was some royal passing by when Keith was right behind him, walking gloriously unnoticed through the crowd. The haircut and hood helped, and Shiro’s ominous presence sent their wandering gazes elsewhere. And if someone did recognize the face of princess Karina behind The Champion, they omitted to comment on it, either too scared or indifferent to do something about it.

As Shiro escorted him up the ramp, chivalrous as always, a girl with no shoes caught his attention, startling him into stopping completely. She was staring at him, eyes wide and glowing, violet as the bruises yet unfaded on his skin, like the ones she could surely see staring back. There was a doll clutched in her hand, and he could recognize a dress and small crown adorning it. The girl offered it to him with a small smile, shaking it slightly from side to side.

“Keith?” Shiro called, tone wary and shoulders tensing, expecting a threat.

“She’s…”

A bastard.

Illegitimate.

Poor.

Young.

His _sister_.

Keith knew there were many of them scattered around Marmora, but they were usually sent to kill by the king’s orders. He’d heard stories of the heights they’d go to hide, the guards whispering them to him as they escorted him through the castle, trying to scare him. One of a boy whose mother was so desperate to keep alive she stabbed his eyes out, a girl dragged kicking and screaming into an alley by a group of soldiers, another who was left on the castle’s steps, bleeding out on the polished stone. They were all either hiding or dead, and yet this girl was standing in the middle of the crowded harbor in the early morning, completely unafraid. And she _saw_ him. _Knew_ him.

Wouldn’t she want to take revenge? Did she even know?

“Keith, we have to leave”

He never found out.

The problem arose at dinner. There was a girl on the other side of the room, flipping her hair all around at a burly man while side-eying him in a manner he assumed was supposed to be subtle. She was pretty, but that’s not what caught his attention. A dress covered her skin, translucent as the robes Lance wore at the brothel, the curves of her body taunting him from afar. Keith could see himself in her, in the long hair that fell around her shoulders in messy, dark waves, the straight edge of her eyes, daring as a rampant fire. But that all passed through his mind in a quick stream, quickly swirling around the details to concentrate on her chest.

The girl was showing off, trying to make him notice. A blurry line ran down her chest like the memory of spilled wine, rosy and barely there. The girl wanted to taunt him, but something akin to shame bloomed through him, blood running warm in embarrassment and disgust. Was that how he looked? And he was even… bigger. Were they too noticeable? Arms crept up to cross over himself unconsciously, as if pushing at his skin would make them go away. As if there was any way to-

“Keith?” Lance calls, nudging his leg to bring him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he blinks, trying to get rid of the discomfort. The girl was still staring at him, smiling shyly. Did she notice? Was it obvious? Was he-

“Do you fancy her or something?”

“What?” he turned, frowning at Lance, whose face was scrunched up in a mixture of confusion and amusement, completely unaware of Keith’s conflict or at least ignoring it.

“Well I’m a whore, it’s like a _requirement_ I like both, so I can’t judge or anything. If you like her, you should just go right ahead. She’ll probably go ahead and bend right over with the way she’s looking at you right now and- yeah. She’s literally spreading her legs right now, are you watching this? Because it looks like the seven heavens the druids liked threatening me with when I’d touch myself and-”

“What in the seven hells are you talking about?”

_Why is she looking at me?_

“Hey. Are you alright?” Lance must have heard the distress in his voice, playful smile and cheerful ranting immediately dropping, tan hands reaching for him as if on instinct, trying to comfort him.

Lance was so tactile, always brushing against the people around him, laughing and hugging and sitting on them so casually. It must have been ingrained in his nature by, living in the brothel as long as he had, or it may have just been how he was. Keith couldn’t understand it, had never taken a part in… _touching_ anyone. And everyone who did touch him just wanted to take a part in his torture, watch him bleed and cry as they laughed. But when it was Lance, he couldn’t help but enjoy it, longing for it even as his body flinched away, causing the whore to pull his hand away, the strings around his arms falling sadly down to his wrists as he placed his wandering hands on the wooden bench they sat on.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice even softer.

Blue eyes looked back at him, endless pools of emotion, begging Keith to let him in, to trust him.

“It’s just her…” but he couldn’t even _say_ it. Gods, he was so pathetic.

“She making you uncomfortable?” the prospect of Lance sounding mildly angry _for_ him because he thought some girl that was making eyes at him was making him uncomfortable was just… “Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, feeling awkward again, the self-consciousness settling in again, reduced now after Lance made him laugh. “It’s just- she’s making me think of-” he made a gesture at his chest, seeing Lance’s eyebrows shoot up. “And it’s just- yeah. I don’t like… ”

“Honey,” Lance rolled his eyes and abruptly stood up, pulling him with him. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? You absolute pity-whore, with your gem eyes. You could’ve just _asked_ , you know? I have some wound dressings that will do perfectly-”

“What?” Keith was honestly confused, stumbling off the bench as Lance yanked at his arm. “You planning on cutting me up or something?”

When Lance looked back at him, he looked absolutely mad.

“You’re going to love me”

Keith didn’t know what he was talking about, letting the whore drag him along to their chambers. But something within him _must_ have known, somehow, that Lance’s words were truer than both of them could have imagined. For Keith had never felt so safe at the prospect of the unknown, not hand in hand with a stranger he’d just met.

So he just went along.

 

* * *

 

The dressings were perfect.

Tight across his chest, they made him look normal with clothes on, just some boy on the ship heading nowhere. Well, heading to Altea. He couldn’t quite believe they were actually going there, to the island far off east. He knew of it, remembered it from the studies he was forced to sit through. Altea was a desert-land with a mean reputation. The land was ruled by a Queen, and father had never approved of that, closed off all trading routes with them and bad-mouthed her name whenever he got the chance to.

Marmorans visited there, sometimes to enjoy the landscapes but mostly why it was so infamous. People from all over the country _escaped_ there frequently, taking shelter in the ‘free land’ as they called it. Whores, bastards and homosexuals, but also traitors, rapists and thieves. Even murderers... All persecuted varieties. Keith couldn't quite understand why Shiro would take him there, even if their options were reduced. So he asked.

“Why are you taking me to Altea?”

Shiro turned on the floor next to his bed, looking at him curiously. “What’s wrong with Altea?”

“You know...” he started, leaning up on his elbows to look at his knight properly. “It isn’t exactly… safe”

Lance snorted from the bunk above him.

“What? Am I not to worry I’m headed to the land thieves and murderers flee to?”

“Oh, honey,” and what was it with that nickname? “You really know nothing do you?”

Lance jumped down from the bunk and crawled into his bed, ignoring his gaping mouth to settle behind him like it was the most natural thing to do. When Keith asked what he was doing, Lance just swung an arm over his waist and buried his face into the back of his neck, ignoring the tension that had settled over his complete body.

“Lance, maybe-” Shiro started to warn him, but the whore just shushed him, sighing extensively.

“Altea,” he started. “It’s not exactly free-for-all over there. Yeah, of course there’s crime, but it’s actually much less than over here. Much, _much_ less than anywhere actually. You’d think it was worse, with the kind of people who want to get there, but we’ve got a fail-safe. You know we’ve got this awesome queen right? Queen Allura? Well, she was the high-priestess before she was elected- oh, yeah. We’ve got democracy. So she was elected and she has… powers? Yeah. She’s-”

“A witch?” Keith laughed, noticing his body relaxing under him, under Lance’s arm.

“Yeah. Kind of,” he felt Lance shake his head, nuzzling further into his hair. “I’m probably not the best to explain it, but yeah. Everyone that gets into Altea must meet with her, sooner or later, hailing or raining. _Everyone_ . She just...knows everything. It’s very unsettling but amazing at the same time. If there’s anyone remotely dangerous on her island she’ll either banish them or have them go through trial and punished accordingly. Our justice system _works,_ so you have nothing to worry about, honey. You and your pretty face will be perfectly safe in Altea. And you have Shiro as a shadow, it’s highly improbable anyone could even pose as a threat to you”

Keith turned to look at Shiro, but the knight just nodded back at him, affirming Lance’s words were true.

“I’d never put you in danger, Keith,” he said seriously, hand clenching on the bed sheets below him.

Okay, so he’d be fine. But…

“How do you know all this?”

Lance tensed a little behind him. “I’m… from Altea”

“How did you end up in Marmora?”

Lance went very, very still against his back, the hand at his waist squeezing his skin.

“Keith. You’re being-” Shiro reprimanded, but Lance cut him off.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he backed off and leaned over Keith then, rolling him onto his back and looking at him. There was a sadness in his eyes he couldn’t explain, the blue pools looking too dark, too full of pain.

Keith didn’t want Lance to be in pain.

“I followed some friends back,” his voice explained, a low whisper between them. “I was… one of them was very dear to me, told me he’d give me the world and all the riches I could imagine beyond it. I left my home and- and my family behind. We were so young, too young, so full of dreams… and people have so much hate in their hearts. We stole some bread from a bakery when we started starving, got caught by some guards. They- they raped my friend, killed my lover and left me for dead. A woman found me bleeding out on the streets and took me into the brothel, the one I told you about with the dead son. I’ve been working there ever since”

A silence stretched between them.

“Seven hells, Lance,” Keith muttered. “That’s awful”

“Yeah,” and he looked tired, so tired and sad, but Keith still had one question swirling around his mind, one that had been stinking up his thoughts and festering since Lance had opened the door the night before.

“How did you meet Shiro?”

The knight flinched. Hard. Keith saw him closing his eyes and turning to look away from the bunk, pulling the thin blankets up to cover him better, as if they’d protect him from any evil. Shiro looked small, like he did the nights he’d lose his mind, mumbling about things Keith couldn’t understand, apologizing for horrors he wouldn’t dare repeat, even in his own mind.

“Can I tell him?” Lance asked over his head, hand absently stroking his hair. The whore’s fingers were slight and gentle on Keith’s nape, pulling at the threads almost adoringly, like he would a small child. Shiro nodded carefully, movements jerky and stiff. “A year had passed since... Shiro was one of my customers. And- no. Keith, _no_ ,” he must’ve seen Keith’s disturbed face because he hurried to assure him, though his words weren’t so comforting. “At first he wouldn’t fuck me! Just… wanted a warm body to lie next to on lonely nights, someone to hold”

Keith felt a knot forming in his throat, the realization that Shiro had…. it was cutting air from flowing into his lungs.

“At first?”

“I’d just turned 14 and he didn’t- I’d had worse and I know it’s _bad_ but- but, Keith. He didn’t _know_ ,” Lance rushed to explain. “He was absolutely _horrified_ when he found out. He didn’t come back for months and-”

“Why did you lie?”

“Because he was kind,” Lance stressed, running a hand down his face, exhausted now. “I’d been through such shit, absolute pigs that just- And I was _scared_ and he was so handsome and so, so _good_ . Every time… every time he came to me he’d hold me so tenderly, pay me more than I was worth and even patched up the wounds they sometimes left. After a couple of months, he came to me one night looking the most stressed I’ve ever seen him. I’d never seen such tension in someone, never felt panic radiating off anyone like that before… Keith, he didn’t even _want_ to, or at least he didn’t know that he did. Not until I offered. And then he asked me how old I was... of course I lied”

But how? Shiro was good, but, most importantly, he was _smart_ . He wouldn’t fall for such a stupid lie, would’ve known to spot it or at least be doubtful of the truth when it was presented to him. The knight was better than that, had always been but… Keith remembered how empty his eyes looked when he fought in the arena, the desperation in them when he came looking for him after, the time he’d been reduced to pleading for death... He could understand it, Shiro being so panicked that he wouldn’t have questioned any option offered for _any_ kind of release. Keith felt like that too sometimes, wished he could be more comfortable with his body so he could make himself relax, feel good for a minute or two.

But, Gods. Lance had been so young...

“The first time you were twelve…” Shiro’s voice called in a whisper, so unexpectedly Keith jumped a little where he was laying. “After I came back to myself and realized I was holding a knife to your throat. After I found you in the morning thinking you’d bled out on the floor. After the king sent me to kill a bastard baby and his mother, and all I could see was you, as an innocent child, dying in my arms. After the guards almost forced themselves on you and I covered you in their blood. Every time after I murdered someone in the arena… every time...”

Keith didn’t know what to say.

“I found out when I heard a guard talking about him,” Shiro turned, but only for a second. Only enough to see the reflection of the soft candlelight in his eyes. They were haunted. “More than a year had passed. The king had rewarded him for dragging you down the stairs when you tried sneaking out after your name day, offered him any whore he wanted. He bragged about a whore with brown skin and blue eyes and….he kept _saying_ it, how young he’d been. Like it made it all so much better. 15, 15, 15. Like he hadn’t just forced himself on a kid”

And then he turned back around and no one spoke anymore.

Keith fell asleep with Lance’s arms around him.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> Next chapter's happier, I swear...


	4. The Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex.

  
Keith had never really been interested in sex. He was definitely curious about it, but who wasn’t? The promise of pleasure, the unconscious desire to preserve the human race... and the simulation of love, if only for a few wondrous moments. But actually going willingly through it was something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to do. All he'd ever been taught about it was that he was to have it, that he’d have to lie and take it so he could gift his father a true heir.

The septa hadn't been any help, either. In all the years since she’d been appointed to him, she’d never offered a kind word or tried to comfort him. Not when cried, not when he bled. Keith grew to see her as an extension of his father’s will. He could imagine the king would love waking him up with cold water to the face as she did when he slept in, slapping the sensitive palms of his hands with her cane when he answered incorrectly. There was even a closet in the learning salon where she’d lock him in sometimes when he’d misbehave, and when he had to attend an event she’d pull at his hair so hard she’d pull strands out, making the silver tiara ache when it was set on his head after.

Most of it was just pain, something he’d learned to deal with, but he could swear she enjoyed humiliating him best, demeaning him every second she wasn’t beating him. The septa especially loved prodding at his body since she noticed he began to try building muscle, hissing about how she wished his suitor wouldn’t even let him stand up to stretch his legs before putting another baby inside him once they were wed, over and over until he was cold and dead in his grave.

_Your only purpose is to breed_ , she’d spit as she pulled at the string of his corsets. _All that pitiful muscle… how do you plan on keeping it when you’re stranded on a bed growing the true heir inside you, and the many more who come after it?_ When Keith told her he’d rather kill himself than bare any nobleman’s offspring, she slapped him so hard he could taste blood on his mouth for the rest of the day.

So, no. She’d never answered questions about sex. All she ever told him was he was to spread his legs and take it if he didn’t want to get strapped to the bedposts, that if he fought too hard they’d either beat him into submission or choke him to unconsciousness so they could have their way with him however they liked, that it was their right to do so and his fate to concede. Keith had never been so aroused with the idea, always presenting itself as a dark cloud amidst his mind, one that came closer as the years passed him by. But now he was free. And though the smell of rain remained, inhabiting his mind ever since his father had chosen his suitor, the emotions it provoked had... changed. Even if he’d been warned of it his entire life, the idea of sex had always remained terrifying, but now…

It didn’t have to be.

Where previously a red door stood, wide open as his father pushed him towards it, now there was just a door. One of hundreds in a row, shut closed but unlocked. And now…

Keith was curious.

“Honey I know we all deal with… grieve? I know we all have different ways of grieving and they can be confusing and weird and… I would love to? But I’m a little worried about why you would want to, considering all you’ve been through, and I don’t really think I’m- we met two _days_ ago. And you looked really uncomfortable about all that thing with Shiro and I would never, ever want to make you feel like that and-”

“Lance,” Keith stopped his rambling. “If you don’t want to it’s fine. I just want…” _to understand my body, to understand myself. I want to feel good, to feel…_

“Today…if Shiro hadn’t gotten me out, I’d be lying face down on a bed with a stranger’s child growing inside me,” he took Lance’s hand and held it to his stomach, trying to make him understand what he was really asking of him.

They were both shaking.

“I’d be beaten and bloody, made to be kept on a bed to his enjoyment. That was my fate, could still be if I were to be found...”

“Keith,” Lance tried. To stop or reassure him, Keith would never know, because he didn’t let him speak.

“I wouldn’t have a name,” Keith laughed, pulling the hand higher up his body to rest on his chest. “I would still hate my reflection…” and he didn’t have to pull it anymore as Lance followed his movement, tracing it lightly up to cradle his face, the pads of his fingers settling at the back of his neck. “Now I’m...me. You _gave_ me that. You gave me this body”

Lance was silent for a second. Keith looked back at him firmly, watching the gears turning in his mind, trying to find rejection in those blue pools.

There wasn’t any.

“You don’t have to give it back to me,” Lance insisted, but there was no resistance, only slight hesitation. But Keith could see he wasn’t scared to have sex with Keith, with how wide the whore’s pupils had gotten, consuming his eyes into black at the prospect. Why was he resisting?

“I don’t want to hurt you”

Oh.

Lance was unreal.

“You laugh at the weirdest times, has anyone ever told you that?” Keith just shook his head, calming himself enough to listen. “I’m a whore. I don’t want you to hurt like I’ve had to”

“It’s too late for that,” Keith looked at Lance firmly, trying to make him understand that he needed this, that he was the only one that could help, that he really couldn’t hurt him any more than he’d already been. “And so what if you do? I’ve taken it from lesser men”

“That isn’t any reason to-”

“Lance,” Keith gritted out, trying but failing not to get exasperated. It had taken a lot to come forward and ask Lance, he wouldn’t give up so easily. “Will you do this for me or not?”

A moment passed.

“Tomorrow,” Lance finally nodded. “Just to make sure you’ve thought about it”

“Promise me”

“Tomorrow, if you still want me to, I’ll share your bed,” Lance kissed his cheek and stepped away. “I promise”

 

* * *

 

Tomorrow came soon enough.

Lance was waiting for him at the docks where they'd agreed, leaning over the rail and watching the ocean. For a second he could pretend Lance was just a cabin boy, skin glowing in the moonlight after a long day, and Keith was just a boy looking to start a new life in Altea. There had been no hardships in either of their lives as they roamed the world totally free, dancing atop the red string of fate like a tightrope, never fearing what waited for them below if they were to fall. The stars were bright above them, reflecting in the dark, still sea below. They were just ships passing at night, forgetting each other’s names but still waving goodbye come morning.

“Keith,” and the fantasy shattered, leaving only a jagged jewel in its place, broken but never losing its glow. Maybe they could combine the pieces to make something better, something beautiful. Maybe in another lifetime, they wouldn’t even have to. Maybe in this one, they could even forget together, become anyone else, if only for a while.

And then Lance jumped off the edge, holding out his hand like a peace offering, inviting him back into the illusion of safety. Keith could read it in his eyes, too, that they were thinking the same thing.

If only for a night.

Lance pulled him into the captain’s cabin.

“Lance, how-”

“Blackmail, honey, remember?” the boy pulled him close and whispered into his ear. “It’s all just for us. All for you”

A kiss to his neck and then he was being spun around, Lance’s hands coming around his waist as he roamed the room with his eyes. It had been cleared of the mapping table along with the bed’s frame, and the mattress had been moved to stand against the tall, tilted windows. As if in a daze, he stumbled away from Lance, kneeling to thread the burgundy silk between his fingers. It was soft, softer than even his bed had been in the castle, run down with sweat and blood as it was. Climbing onto it, he laughed a little at the bounce it held, stretching down onto the sheets like he saw cats do on sunny patches of stone and carpet. The feeling of it on his skin was heavenly and they smelled like the local lavender flowers Shiro would gift him on his name day every year. And the windows… he could see the stars so clearly, even if they were inside, hear the lull of the ocean rocking the ship to sleep.

“What a lovely sight,” Lance called from behind him, footsteps echoing softly as he kneeled onto the bed next to him.

“I don’t know what to say,” Keith smiled shyly, trying to say thank you, but Lance just cupped his face, pulling him up to his height.

“Then don’t say anything at all,” Lance whispered, and suddenly their lips were coming together in a gentle press.

Keith didn’t know what to do, letting Lance guide him through it, letting his tan hands position his arms around broad shoulders and tilt his head. It felt amazing, intimate in a way he’d never experienced before. And then they were separating, and hands were rising up his body and pulling the hem of his shirt with them. Keith let it be drawn over his head but immediately hunched over himself self-consciously as it tumbled onto the wooden boards. Shiro tried helping him build muscle, training him to use his mother’s knife, but their time together had been so scattered. The body that looked back at him read girl all over it like a dated label no matter how hard he’d tried.

And then there was his chest.

“Hey,” Lance pulled his head up, forcing his gaze away from his own crooked body to meet his eyes. “I know… but we can’t continue with it,” the strings in Lance’s wrist shifted as he brushed the edge of the dressing around his chest. Keith knew he was a whore, that surely he’d seen, touched and pleasured worse, that he was the last person that would care about what parts his body had or in what order they were. And still…

“Do I have to?” Keith muttered, feeling red color his cheeks. They hadn’t even begun and already he was ruining it. Why did he have to be like this?

“Here,” Lance took the shawl that covered his lean chest like a loose shirt and offered it to Keith. “We can cover them if you’re uncomfortable. You don’t have to do a thing, yeah?”

Keith nodded, letting him take the precious bandages off, making him laugh a little when it came over his head and ruffled his hair, messing it up more than it already was. When they finally fell, he couldn’t even focus on that he could breathe unrestricted, trying to cross his arms to cover them, feeling exposed. But Lance took hold of his hands before he could, kissing them and guiding them to rest on his shoulders, not once breaking eye contact. There was so much patience and affection in his face that Keith couldn’t care, letting the boy kiss him again as he wrapped the shawl around his chest carefully, tying a loose knot and letting the ends brush his lower back, tickling the skin there a little.

Keith let out a breathy laugh as Lance kissed down the sensitive skin of his neck, watched as he placed a small peck on the fabric of the shawl and felt himself blush even more as he wrapped an arm around his waist to gently lay him back down. Letting his head hit the scattered pillows, he gasped when he felt Lance’s lips low on his belly, looking down to see him undoing the strings that held his pants up. A drop of nervousness fell onto his stomach when he noticed, making him squirm under Lance’s hands. but the whore didn’t stop kissing his skin, sucking soft marks onto it as he pulled his pants and undergarments down. Having been distracted by Lance’s ministrations, he gasped when he felt the air hit his skin, shutting his legs closed and pulling them towards his chest, rising onto his elbows.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry” Lance murmured, rubbing his hands down Keith’s legs. “Should’ve warned you. Let me make it up to you?” he commanded himself to breathe, reminding himself that he trusted Lance, that it was him and not some random nobleman, not the snake or anyone else, that he was there because Keith had asked him to in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Keith smiled shakily, letting Lance’s prying fingers spread his legs open, feeling himself get wet as the boy lowered his head to rest on his thigh.

Gods, was his tongue sinful, lapping and sucking so gently, hands contrasting so starkly against his pale skin. Lance looked beautiful between his legs, like he’d always belonged there, so much that he had to look away, breathing getting heavier with the arousal rising in his gut and spreading along his body. Instead, he focused on the pillows holding his head so perfectly, hair making a halo on them as he looked up at the sky through the windows. What had graced them with such a clear sky? It was a wonder to see. Far away from the lights of the city, the stars looked even brighter, winking in and out of existence as-

“Oh gods be good,” Keith swore as he felt Lance’s tongue on him. He squirmed on the mattress, losing his thoughts as he fisted the sheets. When the whore noticed his restlessness, he took Keith’s hands and placed them on his hair, letting him pull at the strands as he urged his legs up and around to hang at his back, leaving his skin tingling in their wake.

Only Keith’s moans along with wet sounds reverberated across the cabin as Lance took care of him, stroking at his thighs tenderly and humming around him for what felt like hours, so long that he didn’t even notice when a finger was pressed inside, consumed in pleasure as he was. All he could focus on was the feeling of something building in his body, making his toes curl and back arch, trying to get close and away from Lance’s mouth from how intense it felt, a heat that spread and held until-

“Lance,” he gasped, grinding against Lance’s mouth, desperate for a release he hadn’t known he could crave so much. “I don’t know… how do I...,” he felt so good, and the hands on his body were so warm, the sweat on the nape of his neck making his hair stick to his skin. But he needed to cum, needed to cum so bad but he didn’t know how, needed something to get him there, for Lance to push him over the edge.

“C’mon, honey,” Lance kissed at his thighs, pumping his long finger in and out as Keith watched, rubbing at him with the other in a way that made his legs twitch and tremble around his head. “You’re doing so good”

“I don’t- I can’t,” he gasped, hips jerking in need as he lost the strength to hold his head up, dropping it back to the pillows.

“Tell me what you need,” Lance encouraged him, pumping his finger faster.

“More,” Keith moaned, head so high in the clouds he couldn’t even stop to feel embarrassed as he climbed even higher. “More, please,” and then Lance was pushing a second finger into him, curling them together so perfectly it was all he needed, whining and rolling onto his side as Lance fucked him through it, grinding against the arm he closed his legs around in his desperation to keep the fingers inside.

The cotton in his mind took a while to recede, but he could feel Lance pressing more kisses onto his thighs and waist, hand still trapped between his legs as he came down from his orgasm.

“So good, Keith. You did so good,” Lance was murmuring sweetly, forehead resting on his legs as he came to, his other hand pushing the strands of hair out of his face as he panted.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he asked when Keith let his hand go, leaning over his body to kiss at his neck.

“Yeah,” Keith gasped, sensitive still but… “Why are your pants still on?”

Lance looked down at his tented pants and laughed. “This isn’t about me, honey. I’ll be fine”

“What do you take me for?” Keith rolled his eyes, sitting up to undo the strings even as Lance fumbled, trying to stop his still shaking hands.

“Keith-”

“You promised,” Keith stressed, kissing him again, tasting himself on his tongue. “C’mon, I want it”

“Are you-”

Keith felt bold, using his distraction to pull Lance on top of him on the covers, feeling the bulge that rubbed against the inside of his thigh twitch. But he ended up freezing when he looked up, the position making him feel too caged in with the way Lance’s arms were around his head.

What would his father say if he were to have seen him right then? A man that wasn’t his betrothed about to fuck him into a bed in a filthy ship in the middle of the sea. After all the resistance he’d put up against the idea, it was the ultimate rebellion. But he couldn’t help but remember all of the king’s threats. How he’d tie him to the bed if he wouldn’t open his legs and take it, imagined his husband beating and choking him into submission as he tried to get him off.

Lance apparently saw the slight panic in his eyes, as he held onto his waist and pulled until they were rolling on the sheets. When Keith got rid of the slight dizziness it caused and his eyes refocused, he noticed he was sitting on Lance’s lap and instinctively ground down onto him, moaning at the sensation that shot through his body. Every anxiety he’d had disappeared as Lance sat up, kissing and licking into his mouth, pulling at his hair so he was gasping at the ceiling as Lance whispered against his neck.

“Just like that, take what you need,” Lance encouraged, holding onto his hips so they were grinding together. "Tell me what you want, honey"

“Fuck me,” Keith gasped, because he didn’t know what to do with the feeling of emptiness Lance’s fingers had left behind, wanted more from where it had come from, to make Lance feel like he had. He reached under them and held Lance’s cock, feeling it twitch under his inexperienced hands.

“Okay,” Lance smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth and holding onto his hands before he could even try to embarrass himself with his celibacy, placing them on his shoulders again. “But you gotta listen to me, yeah?”

Keith nodded, breathing heavily in anticipation. He wanted to cum again, suddenly needed to when he saw Lance underneath him. It had felt so good, so liberating. And it was all because of Lance. Lance, who was so sweet to him, who held him so closely. Keith was so delirious he’d have done anything the whore asked, been completely at his mercy. And even then Lance wouldn’t take advantage of him, he was too good. So, so good...

“Up here you have control,” Lance said as he spread him gently, positioning the head at his entrance. “You hold onto my shoulders, and if it’s too much you can stop at any moment. I’m yours tonight, yeah?” Keith hummed, leaning forward to look at where Lance was preparing to enter him.

It was... big. He didn’t have a point of reference, but what he could tell was that it was definitely bigger than Lance’s fingers. And then Lance’s words registered in his brain. Control. Keith held the reins, could stop whenever he wanted. Go faster or slower, stop altogether… It was so perfect he leaned forward and kissed Lance deeply.

“Yeah, you...” Keith panted against his lips. “Right now at least... you're mine”

And then he sank down on Lance.

“Seven heavens,” Lance groaned, holding onto his hips but letting him drop at his own pace, as if he just needed something to hold onto. It felt big too, and so, so hot. It was maddening, felt better than Lance’s fingers had. Even if the stretch did hurt at the start, Keith ignored the sting, sinking all the way down, enjoying the way those long fingers clenched on his waist and hip, licking at Lance’s lips when he saw the whore biting at them. It took a while to get used to the feeling of being so full, but finally he started moving, bouncing on Lance’s lap.

Is this what freedom felt like?

“C’mon honey,” Lance bit at his neck as he started moaning again, encouraging him with long kisses and playful gropes. It didn’t take long for him to get to the brink of orgasm again, thighs burning with the effort of pulling himself up and down. He could feel Lance twitching inside of him, could feel his fingers getting tighter on his skin, voice gentle and urging him to cum.

“You feel so good,” Lance muttered as Keith started getting desperate, needing a push again but not knowing how to get it. Needing more and more and more-

“Lance,” he gasped, dropping his head on Lance’s shoulders, whining when his legs refused to pull him up again. “I need to cum. Please, please make me cum,” he muttered, so frustrated that he could feel tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

Lance was merciful and didn’t comment on his deliriousness, and he listened. Grabbing onto his thighs and pulling them up, higher than he had taken himself, Keith leaned away from his shoulder for a moment, only to watch Lance smirk as he promptly pulled him back down. It was all he needed to cum again, holding tight onto Lance’s shoulders and burying his face back into them as he shook through it, rocking almost violently on him, feeling Lance’s movements start to get erratic too as he clenched around him. Keith didn’t know what got into him, but as the ringing in his ears disappeared and he realized Lance still hadn’t cum, Keith wanted him to feel good too, so he forced his head along with his body up and mumbled into Lance’s ear.

“Cum in me, honey,” and garnered enough strength to pull him up once more, dropping for the last time before feeling Lance shoot inside him. Grinding down as Lance fucked him through it, the whore burrowed his head below Keith’s chin like a child, holding onto him tightly. Keith held him back, and when he was done, they didn’t speak about the tears on Lance’s face.

The whore leaned away slightly, only enough so he could lay them down gently onto the mattress, pulling out slowly as Keith spread on the soft sheets.

“Fuck, Keith,” Lance muttered as he swiped at the drops from his face, pulling a cloth from beside the bed to clean them a little, wiping at the sweat on his brow and stroking carefully between his thighs. Elegant eyebrows pulled into a frown as he suddenly stopped kissing at his legs, sighing when Keith started shaking at the feeling of the cum sliding out.

“I’m sorry,” Lance mumbled into his neck as he settled in behind him. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith cut him, not wanting to deal with it yet. “You don’t get to apologize, not for one second of it”

Thankfully, Lance didn't continue, settling in with a final kiss to the back of his neck, breaths already becoming even as he pulled Keith in close to him, hand around his waist almost protectively. For a second he felt like Lance was guarding….

No.

They’d figure it out later.

Keith looked out the windows and decided to follow him, feeling his vision blur until he stumbled into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was my first time writing smut... liked it? 
> 
> Wait, no. Don't answer that.
> 
> What do you think the title means?
> 
> Hmmmmm...


	5. The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endings are hard but beginnings are even harder...I originally planned on making it all just one huge chapter, so this final one's a little short.
> 
> The morning after...

Consciousness came along with the soft luminescence of the morning light behind his closed eyes, a warmth like he’d never felt before consuming every inch of skin exposed to the velvet red sheets, hair gently fluttering by Lance’s soft breathing behind him. Keith turned slowly, wary of disrupting the pleasant atmosphere, and almost startled when he realized the blue he was looking at wasn’t the ocean’s reflection but Lance looking back at him, so close he could probably count his dark eyelashes, see a fluttering of freckles at the corners of his eyes where they crinkled lightly in a lazy smile. 

The reality was that there was a stranger in his bed, but he couldn’t help but feel it was something beyond that. Three days ago the prospect of lying with a man he didn’t know sent him running away from home, sent absolute despair running through his veins in a fiery river. But there Keith lay, with some brothel boy’s hands tracing all over the lines in his body, whispering good morning like it was the millionth time waking up beside him, somehow it felt  _ right _ . Lance didn’t feel like a stranger, felt more like an old, forgotten friend, one he’d spent the night before remembering each other’s bodies…

But how?

Maybe Lance  _ was _ just a whore, knew how to pleasure him so perfectly from years of experience with countless strangers, how to make just another fuck feel special for whoever he had to spend the night with, taught himself to fall in love with every customer that shared his bed so he could get through the restless nights. But even if it meant all that, Keith couldn’t hate him. It just proved Lance a survivor, another tired soul wandering the earth for any kindness it could offer. The way he’d clung to Keith, the tears on his face after… like a child desperate for real touch. 

Even if it was just the illusion of love or misery looking for company, Keith realized he would still have loved him for it. All Lance had done was hold him close and called him honey and Keith had spread his legs and closed his eyes like the fool he was. But he wasn’t the princess anymore, Keith was  _ allowed _ to be a fool, didn’t have to care for the consequences that would follow him because of it.

And it was there, as he was kissed awake by a brothel whore he’d met barely more than two days ago, that he realized he didn’t care for what happened after as long as Lance was beside him, calling him honey and holding his hand through it.

They lay there for hours, talking about nothing and everything until there was a knock at the door and Shiro walked in. The knight didn’t comment on their state of undress, only accepted Keith in his arms when he stumbled up to meet him. Naked skin was covered only by the sheets he’d pulled off the bed, and still Keith clung tightly onto his knight’s tall frame, trying to show he was sorry. There were no words to be said about what happened two nights ago, and Shiro understood that better than any of them, pulling away after a while to kiss his forehead sweetly like he always did, like he’d always do. 

“We’ve almost arrived at Altea,” Shiro said as he pulled away. “After the queen’s gone through everyone in the ship, you’ll be safe”

“Thank you,” Keith mumbled to Shiro, turning to smile at Lance, overwhelmed by the happiness that had begun to spread over him. “Thank you so much”

“Anytime,” Lance followed to stand in front of him, pulling at his hands. “C’mon honey, let’s get some clothes on you so you can show the world your glow”

Shiro laughed and left them be, telling them the day was hot outside. At his comment, Lance insisted on him only using the shawl to cover his chest and nothing more, warning him it would be too hot for a shirt and pushing until Keith was letting him tie it around him in a new manner. 

“You can’t wear the bandages too long or it’ll start hurting, see?” Lance pointed below his ribs where a faint bruise had bloomed. “And Shiro said it’s hot”

“I insist,” Keith gasped a little as he tied the knot at the back, thanking him silently for making the fabric tight so at least his chest wasn’t too noticeable. “You’re only doing this so you get to look at the marks you left, you absolute, egotistical  _ cannibal _ ”

“I would  _ never _ ,” Lance mockingly gasped, spinning him around to land a loud kiss on his lips. “Well… so  _ maybe _ I want nothing between my hands and your skin, but!” he punctuated when Keith rolled his eyes at his words, “It is true that you can’t wear them for too long. Or when you’re fighting or running or sleeping”

Groaning, he let Lance pull him to the docks. They leaned over the railing like Lance had been the night before, looking as Altea became bigger and brighter in the distant, the sand reflecting so much light the land looked to be covered in a heavenly shine. Shiro was right, it was hot outside, the sun unforgiving even in the early morning, but he didn’t stop Lance’s arms from winding around him, only hummed as the whore leaned his head on his shoulder, looking on with him. Lance was probably thinking about his family, wondering if they were safe and how they looked now after so many years, worried, by the way his hands clenched where they rested low on his stomach.

Keith felt a similar worry pool in his gut, seeming to bloom from where Lance’s hands touched his skin. The night before had been wonderful, but they’d been reckless. Keith hadn’t been thinking when he urged Lance to finish inside, but he was thinking now. After the septa and the king, he’d never had time to entertain the idea of children, always thought he’d rather die than let his father savor the joy of an heir. But now he wasn’t the princess anymore, he was just Keith. Whatever child he birthed wouldn’t wear his name or his royalty, wouldn’t exist outside of Altea… 

Keith rose a hand to rest on his stomach, unafraid for a second of what could lay below it. 

“Honey?” Lance whispered against his ear, noticing the shift in his hand and interlocking their fingers together where they lay, making for a pleasant weight. “What’re you thinking about?”

What was Keith thinking about?

Keith wondered about the freedom that waited for them on the mainland, about Shiro and the bastard girl he’d seen at the docks. What had driven those whore’s to bear the king’s children through? It was foolish... But when he tried thinking about getting rid of it, of the child that maybe resulted from their love last night, he understood them. Maybe if Lance’s tears had been real, if his touch remained true. Maybe...

“I wouldn’t mind,” Lance murmured in his ear. “If you want it…”

Keith could imagine himself going through a union with Lance, see Shiro escorting him, ever the gentleman, down a room filled with flowers and Lance’s family, could picture himself, happy and heavy with child. Keith imagined having their baby in his arms, small and beautiful, and for once didn’t hate the idea of purple eyes looking up at him, though he would prefer if they were blue. And Lance would be there, holding them as carefully as he held Keith now. It was so different from what could’ve happened that he started laughing, hand tightening over Lance’s over his stomach and pressing down, wanting the future to hurry up and catch them. 

“You laugh at the best times,” Lance breathed against his neck. 

And then everything felt right, and for the first time in his life, Keith really didn’t mind about anything at all. 

“Is that a yes?” Lance asked hopefully.

“Who knows?” he teased in a high pitch as Lance tickled him slightly. 

“I do… ” Lance insisted. “I’ve seen it before, too… you’re glowing,” and there was so much wonder and hope in his voice that Keith believed him, wanted to enjoy the feeling too.

“We’ll see…” he replied, closing his eyes and imagining it all again, all that could happen, their story just beginning, the promise of new life on the horizon...

Keith couldn’t wait.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading my little story as much as I did writing it.
> 
> I had some more ideas about Shiro's story with Lance. I might put up a one-shot explaining more about it, give you a peek at Keith being a little more pregnant, so if you'd like that let me know!
> 
> Also, is it obvious I love happy endings? I think we all do...
> 
> Have a nice day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave kudos if you'd like to see more of my writing and let me know what you think in the comments below!
> 
> Have a nice day!


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